


How the Whomping Willow Prank Was Really An Elaborate Ploy by Sirius Black To Get Snape and Remus into Bed

by fivekets (gimmetheagustd)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 01:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13625559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmetheagustd/pseuds/fivekets
Summary: Actually, it hadn’t been. At all. Which is fine, but it does not explain why Sirius Black is sprawled out on Remus Lupin’s bed with his trousers around his ankles.





	How the Whomping Willow Prank Was Really An Elaborate Ploy by Sirius Black To Get Snape and Remus into Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Half of this was written in 2004 and half of it was written this afternoon. None of it is good, but at least I finished it! 
> 
> Un-beta-ed, first actual fic longer than 100 words, please forgive my terrible porn.

_How the Whomping Willow Prank Was Really An Elaborate Ploy by Sirius Black To Get Snape and Remus into Bed_

 

\---

 

Actually, it hadn’t been. At all. Which is fine, but it does not explain why Sirius Black is sprawled out on Remus Lupin’s bed with his trousers around his ankles, watching that _git_ he had tried so hard to keep _away_ from Remus tangle long, bony fingers into Remus’ hair and kiss him in such a familiar way that Sirius thinks he might actually be sick.

 

At least that’s what he tells himself, over and over again. It became somewhat of a mantra as he pretends not to feel his cock rapidly hardening at the sight before him.

 

Just then, Remus pulls away from Snape’s mouth, and Sirius momentarily thinks he’s being granted a respite - until Remus instantly sinks his face into Snape’s neck and _growls_ as he nips at the very, very pale skin all the way from Snape’s ear to his collarbone.

 

Sirius groans and palms himself over his underpants. He has never been very good at pretending.

 

\---

 

He doesn’t know how it happened. He’s almost (almost!) sure he hadn’t _meant_ for it to happen. One minute he was barging into the boys’ dormitory shouting at Moony that he _had_ to forgive him, it had already been a _week_ and he _knew_ he was stupid and selfish and an absolute prize idiot, but he never meant to _hurt_ anyone, least of all Remus; and the next thing he knew Snape had poked his head out from Remus’ bedcurtains and Sirius couldn’t breathe. And rather than give Sirius a moment to recover from the _utter trauma_ that was seeing Snape in Moony’s ( _his_ _Moony’s_!) bed, the fucking bastard started accusing him of _planning_ this, of all things. 

 

“I know what this is, you know,” Snape had smirked at him, fucking _infuriating_ bastard, and if it didn’t feel to Sirius like his lungs had collapsed into themselves he would have clocked the Slytherin git right there and then. As it was, the best he was able to muster was something intended as a menacing snarl, but which came out as more of a sputtering cough. 

 

“And what is _this_ , exactly?” Sirius tried to sound angry but his voice had cracked on the word ‘this’ and he was so, so conflicted because half of him wanted to die but the other, hornier half (currently the bigger, far more insistent half) was staring straight past Snape at a very naked, very flushed Remus Lupin and trying desperately not to embarrass himself by tearing off his clothes leaping onto the bed (he remembers vaguely registering that the notion he had any remaining dignity in this situation was ridiculous.)

 

When the silence broke, it hadn’t been Snape who answered, but Remus ( _his gorgeous Moony, who – apparently – wasn’t his at all_ ).

 

“He thinks you did this – “ Remus had hesitated, trying not to look hurt and failing, and oh, _ouch, Moony, right in the heart_ “- this… prank - on purpose to get my – our - attention.”

 

Sirius had blinked and blurted out, “He’s right,” without, you know, _thinking_ , and Remus had drawn in a sharp breath (either from surprise or because Snape had turned away from Sirius, apparently bored with the conversation, and had begun trailing his tongue over Remus’ hipbones) and Sirius had done the same (the half that wanted to die was definitely the bigger half now).

 

And then Sirius had stopped breathing entirely. Because Remus, doing the exact opposite of what Sirius would have expected (which is exactly what Sirius should have expected of him), raised his eyes and his hand and beckoned for Sirius to come closer.

 

“All right,” Remus said, speaking softly but breathing hard as Sirius wordlessly obeyed the command. “You have it. All of it. What are you going to do with it?”

 

\---

 

It turns out to be a rhetorical question, because Sirius doesn’t have time to do _anything_ before Snape suddenly reaches out to grab him and throws him down on the bed next to Remus. Sirius is about to say something venomous but then Snape’s fingers are deftly unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down in one swift motion and he is _nearly naked_ next to a fully naked Remus and Snape is here too and Sirius wants to believe he’s never thought about it being this way but of course he has. All the time. Every night.

 

Snape leans down to kiss Remus, hungry but sweet, and Sirius can’t tear his eyes away. He feels dizzy suddenly and wonders if this is even happening or if he has somehow unwittingly tapped into the magic of Very Lucid Wet Dreams (which sounds funny and made-up, but Sirius chose it as a research topic for his History of Magic class in third-year and wrote a detailed twenty-page essay on it and can assure you it is very real, if not commonly spoken about in polite company.)

 

Sirius is still trying to wrap his poor, spinning head around the whole thing when suddenly Remus is wrapping his _mouth_ around something _somuchmore_ important, and suddenly Snape’s being there doesn’t really matter as long as Remus never, ever stops doing _that_ with his tongue.

 

“Holyfuck _Moony_ ohgodsogood—” Sirius stops gibbering for a second and looks down at Remus’ bobbing head, amazed. “Do you even _have_ tonsils?”

 

Remus does not dignify that with a verbal response, but what he does do is take Sirius’ cock even further into his mouth and swallow _hard_ , and Sirius finds that to be a completely satisfactory answer. The best answer. Every question he ever asks Moony again in their hopefully long, sex-filled lives should be answered like that from now on.

 

His eyes flutter closed as he leans back into the plush pillows, marvelling over the feel of Remus’ mouth. They shoot wide open again when a hard kiss is pressed to his lips, because Remus’ head hasn’t moved from between his legs which means that Snape, _Snape is kissing him_ , why hasn’t he punched him yet? (Obvious answer number one: he will never willingly risk Remus stopping what he’s doing right now. Obvious answer number two: he has wondered for so long what it would be like. It’s good. He decides to kiss Snape back instead of punching him.)

 

It is Snape’s turn to be alarmed, and he tries to jerk away but Sirius holds his head in place with one hand and threads the other through Remus’ hair as he clumsily thrusts his tongue into Snape’s mouth and his hips into Remus’, and he has no idea why he’s being rewarded so fervently for his terrible, terrible idea of a joke but he absolutely cannot reason his way through anything right now, not when everything is so warm and wet and wonderful, and his whole body is on fire and his balls are tightening and he’s spilling muffled cries of pleasure into Snape’s kiss as Remus brings him to climax, and neither Remus nor Snape move away until Sirius has stopped shuddering, has fallen quiet (actual quiet, not Sirius Quiet which is really just Slightly Less Loud), and has the decency to look just slightly guilty when he realizes he is the only one who has been taken care of. Remus and Snape don’t seem to mind. They lean over Sirius for a soft kiss, and it’s sweet but Sirius also knows that Remus tastes like him, which means Snape is tasting him too, and suddenly he no longer feels tired or quiet but like he wants to return the attention that was so diligently given to him. Right now.

 

So he does.

 

\---

 

“And _that_ ,” Snape says, smirking annoyingly but somehow less annoyingly than Sirius might have found it an hour ago, “is how the Whomping Willow Prank was really an elaborate ploy to get us both into bed.”

 

“Quite clever, really,” Remus pipes up, his words stroking Sirius’ somewhat inflated ego as his hand languidly strokes Sirius’ somewhat inflated cock. “Exceptionally fucking _idiotic_ , mind, and if you ever do anything like it ever again I’ll do something far less pleasant to your privates, but clever all the same.”

 

“’M really rather brilliant, aren’t I?” Sirius replies, sounding proud of himself despite being sure he shouldn't be.

 

“Oh, absolutely,” Remus says, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. “Was it just as you had imagined?”

 

Sirius props himself up slightly, looking thoughtful. (He’s much more confident post-orgasm. It makes being sassy seem like an excellent idea despite the fact that in another timeline this whole situation could have gone in another, much worse direction.)

 

“Well, now that I think about it, there may have been a few kinks in the plan.” Remus and Snape snort simultaneously. Sirius ignores them both and waggles his eyebrows suggestively (at least, he thinks he does; he’s spent, he’s tired, can he even move his eyebrows?). “Shall we all start brainstorming the next one?”

 

Pillows hit him from either side. Whomping Willow, indeed.


End file.
